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<title>your touch gives the burning magic that people write songs about (i would know, i wrote them all) by ffslynch</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28561743">your touch gives the burning magic that people write songs about (i would know, i wrote them all)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ffslynch/pseuds/ffslynch'>ffslynch</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Band Fic, Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, Kozume Kenma is touch starved, Kuroo Tetsurou is a Tease, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Kozume Kenma, Pining Kozume Kenma, kuroo tetsurou in a suit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 01:20:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,475</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28561743</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ffslynch/pseuds/ffslynch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Three Black Cats, a popular Japanese rock band on the rise, gets nominated for their first award show. The lead singer has the audacity to wear a suit, and the bass player suffers<br/>(alternatively: a band au + pining and lowkey touch starved Kenma agenda that no one asked for)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>175</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>My favorite haikyuu fics</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>your touch gives the burning magic that people write songs about (i would know, i wrote them all)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>HAPPY KUROKEN DAY!!! I originally wrote this for the krkn christmas exchange, and ended up changing the idea even though I really liked the concept. It's my first badn AU, so I hope you like it! </p><p>Also, I can't write songs, but if I could I would write one for <a href="https://twitter.com/jeIIyfics">twitter</a> as a thank you for beta reading this for me at such last minute. Don't forget to check her <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellyfic">works</a> (also pss: she's accepting commissions)!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Kenma is dying. Kenma is dying, and it’s completely Kuroo’s fault. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, not completely. That would be a bit unfair, to blame all the high anxiety and feeling of having a stone on his chest on Kuroo. All in all, the night was already flowing with high stakes and strong feelings that had been making Kenma’s skin prickle, Kuroo was simply adding another motive to the pile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Today was their first time at an award show, the first time that their band ‘Three Black Cats’ was ever actually being considered, for not only one but two categories. And as exciting as it was, it was also incredibly terrifying. Anxiety did not even begin to describe what Kenma was feeling - if they lost, everyone would see and there would be cameras recording his reaction. If they won, then he’d have to go on the stage for the band to make a speech . There was no 100% win in this, it was terrifying. Even with a few years of going on stage for shows on his back, the idea was still very nerve-wracking to Kenma. At least during their live shows it was about the music, but on an awards show, the attention would be completely on them as a band. On Kenma, as a person, to have his personality, appearance and talent to be scrutinized by the public. It truly was nothing but a nightmare. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And if that wasn’t enough, Kuroo just had to make everything worse by deciding to change it up and actually dress up in a more polished fashion than usual. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma was sitting in the living room with Kai and Yaku, leg slightly jittery, waiting for Kuroo to get ready and the other members of Nekoma Records that were going with them to the awards, already having some difficulty breathing. And when Kuroo finally left his room, Kenma’s lungs stopped working all together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because Kuroo was wearing a suit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure, his essential staples such as eyeliner and black nail polish were still there, but he was still wearing a freaking suit, all three pieces with a smooth pressed shirt and buttons done - and that was a big change from the rest of his usual wardrobe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma was pretty sure he had never seen Kuroo in a suit before, or dressing anything so formal on any occasion. So really, he had never considered much how Kuroo would look in a suit, but he definitely did not expect him to look like that. Kuroo looked indecently good, the bastard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma thought he might be hyperventilating a little. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The suit was red, with a black tie and a button down shirt in a stark white shade. It was also perfectly fitted to Kuroo’s body. It was not too tight, but Kenma could definitely see the fabric stretch slightly over his biceps when Kuroo raised his arms, and the vision when he turned his back to Kenma to look in the mirror, wasn’t the worst either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma was definitely hyperventilating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His inner breakdown was quickly interrupted by Tora and Fukunaga, also known as Nekoma Records new indie rock band ‘Second Chances’, entering the apartment, Tora as loud as ever with Fukunaga quietly trailing behind with the same mischievous look on his eyes as usual.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“YO! You guys ready to go or what?” Tora asked, and Yaku rolled his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you being so loud for? I’m pretty sure Nekomata has already told you to tone down your attitude especially if we’re doing interviews tonight.” He warned, calling Tora out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tora clicks his tongue, but has the decency to look slightly embarrassed. His quick mouth and impatience had caused him a few issues with interviewers in the past, and although ‘Second Chances’ was doing well enough with their first album, it was not successful enough that the idea to be dropped by Nekoma Records was impossible. Nekomata enjoyed and encouraged playful and daring images, songs and video clips - but he had always been very clear that he had no time or patience for trouble in or out of the stage. If Tora was smart, he’d keep his mouth shut.</span>
</p><p><span>“Yeah, whatever. Fukunaga can always come in and fill in with a dumb joke and distract everyone in any ways” he said, and they all looked at the silent bass player, who simply nodded contently. Kenma snorted. Fukunaga had always been one of his favourites, and if ‘</span> <span>Three Black Cats’ wasn’t so important for him, he wouldn’t have minded joining ‘Second Chances’, just for him and his own lyrics. Even if it meant dealing with the human form of a headache that was Tora. </span></p><p>
  <span>“Ok!” Kuroo slapped hands together, watching everyone. “Everyone’s ready to go?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought Lev and the rest of ‘White Winter’ were coming with us?” Kenma asked and Kai propped in to answer while dressing the jacket of his own suit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nops, he and the rest of the band are going with Alisa, because of their last duet. They thought it would be cool to do the red carpet together, before interviews,” he explained, and Kenma nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They all got up, jackets being put on, shoes being slipped on and ties being laced, before leaving the apartment and waiting for the lift.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they were downstairs, waiting on the curb for a car to pick them up, Kuroo turned to him, all bright eyes and excited smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you excited for the rest of the night?” He asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma thought about going on the stage to receive an award. He thought about millions of people listening to his songs. He thought about the chance of meeting so many of the artists that he had admired for years now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma thought of spending the whole night, sitting beside Kuroo, watching him with side eyes. Kuroo, who was wearing that red suit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma was frustrated with himself. He had no idea why he felt this way, why there were beads of anxiety pooling on the back of his neck, and he felt itchy. He had seen Kuroo in all sorts of states before, from the most ragged sweatpants and a tank top on lazy days to too-tight leather pants and even a cursed dinosaur costume, for one of their first, no budget, video clips. So why was this stupid suit freaking him out?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes stayed glued to the ground, hating the warmth that covered his face, and nodded, answering Kuroo’s question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The trip to the theatre where the event was happening passed surprisingly quickly. Kenma felt stuck in a limbo, between avoiding accidentally getting hit by Yaku’s wild gestures as he discussed with Tora, and being pressed against Kuroo’s shoulder, his lungs filling with the scent of his cologne every time Kenma dared to breathe. Kuroo noticed the clear tension on his shoulders, and  mistook it for nerves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry” he apologized, trying (and failing) to shuffle to the side and create a distance in between them. Kenma looked at him, with his eyebrows bunched up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo used to touch him a lot when they were growing up. Like, a ridiculous amount. There was always one part of him lingering or centimetres away from Kenma - a head on top of his, a back pressed against his as they would lay down, a leg thrown over his lap, a hand on his back. Kuroo was, by nature, a touchy person. He didn’t ask people to go after his touch back, and it was never a grand gesture or anything like that, he simply enjoyed physical contact. Kenma grew used to having the heat of Kuroo’s skin against his, in all different moments. It was grounding, in a way, to always have him there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, in the past five years, Kuroo had touched him less and less, and he barely touched Kenma altogether in the past two, unless it was strictly necessary. Kenma had no idea what had prompted such brute change, especially when Kuroo seemed to still be as touchy as before with others. It hurt, more than Kenma would like to admit, and it threw him out of balance. He had relied on Kuroo’s touch as a form of settling himself, of finding calm, stability in the middle of stressful moments for such a long time that Kenma found himself struggling to deal with such feelings without it sometimes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He understood what Kuroo was trying to do, because he had given that excuse other times. Kuroo was creating space for him to breathe, to feel less constricted. Kenma would have preferred if Kuroo held him close to his chest, until all Kenma could feel, hear and smell would be Kuroo’s arms, heartbeat and scent. Until Kuroo was his whole world. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma got so focused on trying to not think about Kuroo touching him that he didn’t even notice when the car parked, and soon they were being ushered towards the red carpet for pictures and interviews.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There will never be a feeling more uncomfortable than a reporter with a huge fake smile pushing a microphone on your face, asking dubious questions with the purpose of getting you to say something you shouldn’t, while multiple photographers scream your name in different directions with huge cameras and bright flashes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma hated red carpets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were in the middle of their third interview, and Kenma wasn’t the only one who was profusely annoyed. The reporter kept smiling at them, and nodding at their responses, but her eyes were solely on Kuroo (not that Kenma would blame her, the suit was still causing a short circuit in Kenma’s brain), and although he was the lead singer, it was offensive that she was acting as if he was the only member of the band.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo, however, was having none of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, and as the main face and voice of the band, how are you feeling about your chances of winning one of the nominations?” She asked, blinking at him and smiling even wider. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo grinned back, in the sharp, intense way he did when he was ready to put someone at their place - the same smile he gave his teachers who laughed when he said he wanted to pursue music, and when his father said that real men didn’t wear make up, and when their first music producer said their songs were a joke that no one would buy. It never failed to make Kenma shiver.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you know, I’m only the dude who’s doing the singing, I’m sure you know that. Most of our instrumentals were written out by Kai, and rock music is nothing without a good beat, so it’s great that we have Yaku, one of the best and most talented drummers of our generation, playing for us. And, of course, ‘Three Black Cats’ would be nothing without our bassist, who’s also behind most of our best lyrics and singles. We would probably still be an unknown garage band if it wasn’t for Kenma.” Kuroo said, and as his smile grew wider the reporter went paler, clearly noticing her mistake. “Even if we don’t win tonight, our new album drops in two months, and it’s the best thing we’ve put out yet, thanks to my wonderful bandmates, of course. All the other bands have no idea what’s coming on their way, and I’d advise people to think twice before undermining our band.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The reporter nodded and gulped, before thanking them and quickly walking away. It took five seconds for them to break down laughing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re so dramatic, Kuro,” Kenma said, shaking his head, but he couldtell that Kuroo knew he was trying, and failing, to hide a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You and your damn speeches.” Yaku muttered, but he was smirking, so he clearly wasn’t offended. Kai had the same peaceful smile as usual.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said. “Nekomata will want to have a word with you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo nodded, chuckling,“Yeah, but I couldn’t really help myself,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “Are you proud of me, though?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kai laughed, and squeezed Kuroo’s shoulder.“Very.” Kuroo laughed back, passing his arm around his neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There it was - the constant touching. Second nature. Kenma smiled, and watched. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ooh, talking about other bands…” Yaku interrupted them, pointing with his chin, and they all turned to see ‘Fly High’ walking on the carpet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was five of them - Yamaguchi, the shy and sweet bassist, Tsukishima, their overly sarcastic main guitarist, Kageyama, their socially constipated drummer, Yachi, the sweet singer and keyboard player, and the secondary guitarist and main singer of the band, Hinata. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Fly High’ had debuted only last summer, but they had been quick to rise to fame, bringing their record label, Karasuno music, to come to live again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t take long for Hinata to spot them, not that Kuroo’s hair would make it any harder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kenma!” Hinata yelled, approaching and waving his arms enthusiastically, and Kenma smiled back, in that shy way of his. Hinata had always been a tiny, hyper ball of sunshine, pulling people in and forcing smiles out of them - his charisma and appeal was probably one of the reasons for the high success of his band. Ever since they had met, before ‘Fly High’ had even had their first single out, Kenma had known that he would achieve great things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi Shoyo,” Kenma greeted him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi! Are you excited? I’m so nervous, I can’t believe we were actually nominated!” Hinata said, excited, and Kenma couldn’t help but chuckle at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your debut single was on the top chart for like two months straight, how could you not be?” he asked and Hinata just shrugged, the same dreamy look in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, this all still feels kinda like a dream” he admitted, raising his arms in the air. “Like, look at this! Look at us! On a red carpet! A real red carpet, Kenma! It’s like - </span>
</p><p>
  <span>!!” Hinata said while opening his hands on the side of his face, fingers spread wide. “Mind blowing!” Kenma only smiled at him, nodding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I get the feeling” he said, because it was true. He hated the attention and the focus on him, but it was good to know that your hard work was being recognized.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ukai is throwing an after party at the end! You should come, it’s going to be fun! Oh, do you think you can sit with us? I want to hear your opinion on the performances!”  he said, and Kenma opened his mouth to answer but got interrupted by a hand on his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, hey, c’mon now!” Kuroo said, suddenly, smiling down at them, “It’s time to go, we shouldn’t be fraternizing with the enemy,” he added sarcastically. “You two can make plans and hang out after the awards,” he pointed out before shaking Hinata’s hand. “Good luck out there.” He said, and Hinata smiled, undisturbed and as bright as ever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good luck, Kuroo-san! See you out there!” He said, before squeezing Kenma’s hand, smiling, and moving back to his own band. Kuroo waved at him, before gently pushing Kenma through the shoulder and guiding him away from the red carpet and inside the hall itself, following Yaku and Kai.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It felt weird to have Kuroo touching him like this. It reminded him of how it used to be, of the touches Kenma had missed and craved, but it wasn’t the same. This felt patronizing, as if Kenma was a child. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you keep holding my shoulder?” Kenma asked, moving his shoulder away and looking at Kuroo, annoyance clear in his face and voice. Kuroo looked at him with his eyebrows raised, before smirking. There was a flash of something in his eyes that Kenma vaguely recognized as hurt, but it vanished so quickly that he couldn’t confirm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I’m jealous you will run away with chibi-chan,” Kuroo said, the same teasing tone on his voice as always, and Kenma’s breath stopped in his lungs. His admiration for Shoyo wasn’t a secret to anyone that truly knew him. There was no real story behind it, he had an infatuation years ago that led nowhere, and now, here they were. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t mock me,” Kenma said, hastily. He expected Kuroo to laugh, to tell him he was joking, or even simply lift his hands feigning false innocence. Instead, he looked at him with something serious and unknown pooling in his eyes.</span>
</p><p> <span>“You know, I wish you’d take me seriously, every now and then,” Kuroo said, his voice deeper than normal, almost sad.</span></p><p>
  <span>Kenma didn’t really have time to process the words and try to understand what he meant by that. Barely a second after the words left Kuroo’s mouth, Alisa appeared in front of them, out of nowhere, throwing her arms around Kuroo’s neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tetsurou” She called him, excited and Kenma felt something inside him recoil. No one called Kuroo by his first name, only Kenma’s own parents and his grandmother.  It felt wrong to hear it from someone else's mouth, especially someone that until that very moment, Kenma didn’t consider to be particularly close to Kuroo. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alisa-chan,” Kuroo said, and Kenma’s eyes grew wide at the use of the honorific. Alisa was older than Kuroo, for him to call her ‘chan’ was weird to say the least. There was a joke that Kenma was missing, and he hated it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alisa slapped Kuroo’s shoulder jokingly, before turning to say hi to all the other members. When she smiled at Kenma, he looked away curtly. Alisa was nice and all, and they’ve always had a neutral to positive relationship, but right now he was not the fondest of her, for reasons he didn’t wish to disclose - not even for himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A voice boomed through the speakers, informing them that it was time to move on from the carpet to their respective tables. The show was about to start. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The night moved down a bit slower than Kenma would like. It was a bit frustrating for him, in all honesty. It was not that he was bored, it was just that he was so anxious that he just wanted to get to the categories that his own band was nominated for. But unfortunately, because there was someone up there that controlled the universe that had decided to make this night some sort of living hell for Kenma, those were the last ones, obviously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were sitting at the same table as ‘Second Chances’ and ‘White Winter’, Alisa and Akane. Kenma was doing his best to take deep breaths and distract himself by playing games on his phones, but he kept bouncing his leg, his knee almost hitting the table repeatedly, out of anxiety. It only came to a halt when Kuroo placed his hand over his tight, squeezing it a little. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” he whispered, and Kenma looked up to him, eyes wide out of surprise from having a voice breaking through the vortex of fear that was quickly forming in his head. “Are you ok?” Kuroo asked, and Kenma shrugged. “Stage frights?” he continued, smiling and Kenma looked down, hiding behind his hair. Kuroo squeezed his leg again.“What are you playing? Want to talk me through it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma nodded, grateful. Kuroo always knew exactly how to get him out of his head, how to focus on what mattered. So he explained the game, and the characters and plot, and Kuroo nodded, his hand resting on Kenma’s leg. They kept talkinglike this for a while, until Kenma was able to breathe a bit deeper and his mind was a bit clearer. He looked at Kuroo in the eyes and gave him a side smile, silently thanking him. Kuroo smiled back, tight lipped, before slapping Kenma’s leg a few times and turning back to the rest of the members of their table.</span>
</p><p><span>“Yuu and Asahi are presenting the next category!” Yaku exclaimed, excited to see one of his closest friends on stage. He had made a feat into Nishinoya’s most recent EP, and he had been rather proud of that work. Yaku was open about his admiration for Nishinoya’s work and tenacity, and after working together they had become a sort of unbeatable duo, a collaboration between different music genres and Music Productions. </span><span><br/>
</span> <span>“Ah, yes, the Ariana Grande and Pete Davidson of Japan music industry,” Kuroo said matter-of-factly, and Yaku elbowed him in the ribs less than a second later.</span></p><p>
  <span>“Shut your trap and behave, would you?” He asked, a smile that was really only teeth and threat on his face. Kuroo coughed, nodding and cursing Yaku under his breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the night went on easily, after that. Kenma fluttered in and out of conversation, exchanging his focus in between what his friends were saying, the presentations, and his phone. Soon enough, the closing categories were being announced, and he found himself holding his breath once again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And, the winner of the best album is…” the presentator began with a smile stapled on her face. Kenma bit his lip, eyes stuck on the ground, wishing she would just rip the band aid off. “...WE ARE BLOOD, BY THREE BLACK CATS!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma’s eyes snapped up, shocked. He looked to the side, and Kuroo was yelling, Yaku on his arms holding him by the neck, seeming so excited that he didn’’t even mind that his feet were not touching the ground. Kenma stood up, and turned to Kai, who was smiling at him widely. Kai put his arms around Yaku’s shoulders, and they let the drummer lead them to the stage. Kuroo turned back to Kenma and smiled at him, the same blinding bright smile that had never failed to make Kenma’s heart skip a beat. There, against the bright lights, with that damned smile and the cursed suit, Kenma thought he looked like something made in heaven.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought was embarrassing enough for him to shake his head and look down, settling back into reality. He realized what that entailed, winning - it meant they had to go on stage, and give a speech. Kenma’s breath became a little more unstable, once again, and he found himself swallowing dry and unable to move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo broke through his anxiety, once again, by touching him. Kenma looked up to meet his eyes, and Kuroo took a deep breath, slowly. Kenma imitated him, relaxing a bit. Kuroo smiled and mouthed, ‘I got you’, placing a hand firmly on the back of Kenma’s neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay?” he asked, as two of the organizers of the event, in black tie, surrounded them. Kuroo holded a hand, stopping them from getting any closer, eyes still on Kenma, until Kenma nodded, smiling back and confirming that he was good to go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The organizers guided the both of them to the stage, pushing him forward, but Kuroo maintained his hand on the back of Kenma’s neck, slowly sliding it down to the middle of his back when they were on stage, so it called less attention. A reminder. A warm, familiar touch to ground him on his spiralling anxiety. It was saying ‘I’m here for you’, like Kuroo had been saying for years.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were on the stage, the lights were blinding and there was an unholy amount of eyes on them - both in presence and watching through their screens. Kuroo was speaking, and Kenma’s ears were buzzing, as if filled with cotton. He heard his parents name and their garage where the band had started being mentioned, because of course Kuroo would thank them. He heard Nekomata’s name, and his faith in their band when they were only 17 year olds, messy teenagers with big dreams and covers on YouTube. He heard his own name, over and over again. Kenma looked up, and Kuroo was smiling at him, Yaku and Kai too. He heard their words about the lyrics Kenma had written for this album, about the message of connection, of being seen, of perceiving even when you could barely feel your legs. Doing your best, even when you want to give up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma wanted to interrupt them, tell them that their band was amazing and incredible not because of him, but because of all of them. He didn’t, but he made a promise to himself to tell them someday, sooner than later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo turned back to the microphone, pouring his own heart out, about how music and this band had saved him. He just stood there, in the cursed red suit, with his eloquent words, thanking the world for looking at a scrawny group of young men with eyeliner, yelling at a microphone about the sorrows and heartaches of their generation. He thanked them for seeing them and, more importantly, listening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And this moment was the worst and the best of all, as he saw Kuroo, speaking into the microphone, flashing a proud smile to the crowd, eyes lined up with tears. In over 15 years, Kenma had seen Kuroo in all sorts of state, from frustrated outburst to drunken mess, to laughing to the point of crying because of a cat pun. And as his best friend, Kenma  had different levels of affection for all of these versions of Kuroo that exist on the back of his head, in the form of memories. But this - this Kuroo standing beside him, filled with joy and pride on his music -  was the best version of him. This was the leader-of-the-band Kuroo, the artist kid who doodled lyrics instead of doing homework and made up songs to help Kenma remember all elements of the periodic table. This was ambitious ‘I’ll make a band out of nothing’ Kuroo, always hopeful and unbelievably passionate Kuroo. This was Kenma’s favourite version of Kuroo. His Kuroo. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The time was up. They left the stage, but Kuroo’s hand didn’t leave his back once. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After that, the rest of the ceremony went by almost in a blur. GRLZ, a punk all female band from Karasuno, won the best band category, and Kenma was slightly disappointed but not surprised. There were a few ending tributes and a final show by a famous singer with an orchestra. Before Kenma had time to process, everyone was already on their way to their respective after parties. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma stood there, fidgeting with his fingers, watching his friends waiting in the curb discussing where to go - should they move back to Lev’s penthouse? He had his own bar, it ought to cause chaos, fun and regrets in semi-equal amounts. But then again, there was Karasuno’s music producer party, and Aoba Johsai were also throwing one and their parties were notoriously incredible. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They ended up finding themselves with the rest of Karasuno Music, at Ukai’s house, the alleged rivalry in between the labels completely forgotten. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma had fun, he couldn’t say he didn’t. Hinata talked to him about the presentations and recent music videos coming out, and was overall his amusing, fun self. Akaashi was there as well, during a short period of time that was just long enough for them to snicker and make fun of their friends who were getting drunker and drunker. Tora had awkwardly but hilariously danced for him, in an attempt to convince Kenma to dance as well, and Fukunaga had been beside him the entire time making time remarks such as ‘wow’, ‘yes’, ‘drop it lower’, which just made Kenma cackle. He squeezed his eyes shut, belly hurting from laughing so hard, and thanked the universe and whichever unknown entity that controlled it, for his life, his friends, and the fact that he was able to do what he loved every day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hours went by, and even though Kenma was happy, he was also exhausted. Social interactions were always hard for him in general, but the awards followed by a party had been simply draining. He looked up from his phone, ready to get up and start saying goodbyes, when his eyes crossed with Kuroo’s. The singer was standing at the entrance of the room, giving him a side smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Home?” he mouthed from the distance, and Kenma smiled back and nodded. Kuroo always knew him too well. Kenma stood up, and nodded at his drunk friends around him, and when he left the house, Kuroo was already calling for the taxi, chugging a bottle of water in the process.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sat in the back of the car, shoulders pressed together, still buzzed from the high of winning mixed with the few drinks stolen during the evening. When they got back to the apartment which Kuroo shared with Yaku, where the night had started, the sky was a lighter shade of blue - the sun slowly making its way into being seen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stumbled their way through the living room, jackets being abandoned on the sofa and shoes left disorganized on the entrance hall. Kuroo disappeared into the kitchen, while Kenma stayed there, standing in the middle of the living room, feeling awkward and not quite knowing why. He had been here a thousand times before, obviously. It was Kuroo’s home, which made it at least 40% of Kenma’s home as well, and all the furniture and walls were covered in familiarity. Kenma could tell where all and each of those pieces had been bought, could point out all the cracks and stains on the walls, there was not a single part of this place that he didn’t know. Still, for some reason, he felt stiff, like it was impossible to relax. He scratched his throat and tried to shake whatever it was that was worrying him out of his head. Everything was fine. There was nothing to be worried about. Tonight had been a good night, and now all he needed was to rest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo came back, gulping down a water bottle and holding another on his other hand, and Kenma eyed him before shaking his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yaku is going to kill you when he gets here and sees this mess,” he told him, although he made no move to clean it up. Kuroo snorted and handed him the second water bottle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I doubt he will be here at any time soon, to be honest,” Kuroo said, raising his eyebrows, and  Kenma furrowed his brows at that answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He disappeared midway through the party with Alisa. If everything works out, I’m pretty sure I’ll only see him on Monday.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma almost choked on his water.“Alisa? Haiba Alisa?” he asked, eyes wide and Kuroo nodded with a pleased look on his face. Kenma was more confused than ever. “Are you not… upset by that?”  Kuroo turned to look at him surprised and confused by the question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would I be upset? I’m relieved if anything,” he said “Yaku has been pining for her since she debuted. If I have to hear him sighing over her video clips one more time, I might as well throw myself out of the window”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yaku...likes Alisa…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes… Why are you acting so weird? Did you not know that?” Kuroo asked, before stopping to ponder a little. “Well...I guess he does most of the sad pining when he thinks no one can see him. I’m just the unlucky bastard that lives with him and has to see all of that.” He shrugged, “But I am surprised you hadn’t noticed before. I thought it was so obvious, with her getting invited to get ready with us, showing up to some rehearsal etc…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma shrugged, embarrassed. Truth be said, he had simply assumed Alisa liked Kuroo. Because who wouldn’t like Kuroo? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The revelation that his best friend was not actually in love with someone else, gave Kenma bad ideas. It filled his mind with different possibilities and voices telling him that if he hadn’t noticed that Yaku and Alisa were a thing, then maybe… Maybe there were other things that he had missed. Things that had left him questioning and confused, but were actually very clear if he squinted and looked a little closer. He looked up to see Kuroo, hair completely dishevelled and falling over one of his eyes, the white button shirt with the first three undone, the sleeves rolled up his shoulders. He lookeds too good for his own good, and Kenma hated him a little for it. It was a dangerous vision. It gave Kenma ideas. It gave him the courage to say them out loud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you never touch me like you do with the others anymore?” He asked, bluntly, and he could see the exact moment that Kuroo inhaled water wrongly, leading him to cough his lungs out, face pale, for the next several seconds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, what do you mean by that? I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” Kuroo defended, laughing nervously, and Kenma rolled his eyes. God, he was a terrible liar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, you do. You used to touch me all the time when we were growing up, you’re a touchy person. But then something happened, and you just stopped, and I thought you had grown out of it, but it’s just with me. You’re constantly touching everyone else around us, you hug and kiss Kai and Yaku on the face all the time.” Kenma exposed Kuroo behaviour, letting it clear how much of it he had observed, how much it affected him. It was awfully embarrassing to say these things out loud, to let himself known like that, but Kuroo seemed to be the self-conscious one, his face deep red and eyes stuck on the floor. “You touched me today, you had my back during all the time we were on stage. Why?” Kuroo shrugged. His eyes left the floor, but moved directly to the ceiling, away from Kenma.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It seemed like you needed some grounding. I couldn’t keep repeating that it was okay and that I was here for you, and besides saying it out loud would have made you embarrassed. So I just...kept my hand on your back.” Kenma took in the answer slowly. He swallowed dry, before continuing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kuro,” he started, hesitant. “Why do you never touch me anymore?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It felt like it took a million years for any of them to move. Everything Kenma could hear was the heavy and tensed ragged breath from both of them. Outside, the sky became lighter and lighter, the night and all its darkness dissolving away. But Kenma was tired of being kept in the dark. He was tired of secrets. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Kuroo finally, <em>finally</em> </span>
  <span>looked at him, Kenma thought he was made of starlight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m afraid,” Kuroo admitted, his voice barely a whisper. “I think it took me a long time to finally understand how much I loved having you around, how much I enjoyed being affectionate with you. And then one day it hit me that maybe I liked it too much. So I just stopped.” Kuroo admitted, a sigh of defeat leaving his lips. It was too late to go back now, the truth was out there, filling the room and suffocating both of them.  “I’m afraid that if I touch you, I might never stop. And then it would be too much, it would be too obvious, too easy for you to figure it out. And you would leave the band because that’s what happens to people who fuck up and fall in love with people that are in the same band as them. And then you’d leave me, and I don’t think I could handle that.” He chuckled, bitterly, before rubbing his eyes and looking straight into Kenma’s once more. “I don’t touch you like I do with the others, because you’re not like the others. Because I like you too much, Kenma. I’m in love with you. And I don’t want you to leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So there was it; the truth Kuroo had been choking on for almost 5 years now. The answer Kenma kept looking for but felt like he was always falling short on connecting the dots. Except he didn’t need to look for it any more, Kuroo had laid it down at his feet. And now it was his turn to answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look good in a suit.” Kenma blurted out, and Kuroo blinked. There was a tensed silence, an awkward moment where they both just stared at each other. Kenma was ready to open his mouth to say something, anything. To explain, to apologize, to tell Kuroo he looked </span>
</p><p>
  <span> good in a suit. But he didn’t. He didn’t because Kuroo broke down laughing and Kenma was just left staring at him baffled, and a bit embarrassed by that reaction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn,” Kuroo finally said after catching his breath. “I knew you were bad at saying things, but I didn’t think you were that bad. Is that all you really have to say? I straight up confessed, and you’re just going to tell me I look good?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up,” Kenma answered, his face burning. “You know what I meant.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Kuroo told him with a soft smile on his face. “Yeah, I do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he really did, Kenma knew so. Because Kuroo knew him. At least enough to know that when Kenma said he looked good in a suit he meant: “I couldn’t take my eyes off of you all night. I think about you when I wake up. I sometimes buy food that I don’t like to keep in my fridge for when you come over. Your laugh is my favourite sound. I want to kiss you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I love you too. I love you too. I love you too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m not going anywhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t have to say out loud; Kuroo knew him. But he did it anyway. And when Kenma finally answered, and allowed the words that have been filling his brain from the moment he saw Kuroo ready to go earlier in the afternoon to finally  leave his lips, it felt like a weight was lifted from his shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo watched him without breathing, without daring to break the moment. Until he couldn’t hold back any longer, approaching and gently (but desperately) pulling Kenma closer, holding his face in between his hands and kissing him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing that Kenma knew was good enough to describe the feeling that went down his spine when Kuroo kissed him. The only thing that had ever come close to it was their first big show, the first time he saw people sing and dance, crying out the lyrics that Kenma had written himself, filled with meaning and passion. It was burning magic that made him fluttery and fuzzy inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They kissed for a long time, and even when they stopped to breathe, Kuroo didn't pull away, peppering his face with kisses while trying to hold back a smile. Kenma didn’t stop him, didn’t want to stop him. They had both waited for this for too long, and he never wanted Kuroo to stop touching him ever again. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for reading this!  Feedback is always more than welcome, and If you'd like to see me yelling about yearning, Kuroo and confessions, you can always find me on <a href="https://twitter.com/ffskuroo">twitter</a>!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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